


Ink

by humandronebarnes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bucky Barnes Angst, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry Victor Hugo, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Slice of Life, Tattoos, Terrible interpretations of Les Misérables, grammarly doesn't think Bucky is a name, hugs make everything better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 22:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16941690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humandronebarnes/pseuds/humandronebarnes
Summary: Bucky looks into his attitudes towards tattoos, hugs, and hope with the help of a friend who has some expertise in all three categories.





	Ink

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a challenge I did on Tumblr in November. It also works as a part of a series I've been writing for the past two years. Maybe I could use this as a kind of a preview? I hope you like this.

Bucky shook his head lightly as Jordan and Naomi screamed at each other on the TV screen. The Wolf of Wall Street hadn’t impressed him so far. Bucky found it impossible to find sympathy towards a guy who made his fortune by scamming people, all while snorting his weight in cocaine. So far, the movie had felt chaotic and fast-paced, like the film itself was on cocaine, too. 

Giving a good roll to his stiff neck, Bucky shot a look at his friend, Liv, who had insisted on watching the movie. She had sworn it was one of the best movies she had seen in the past year. Bucky swallowed a scoff and thought Liv’s enthusiasm towards the movie was sort of endearing. She chewed her fingers staring intently at the TV. Her body trembled slightly as she wiggled her right leg. The giant bowl of caramel popcorn she had prepared earlier sat on her lap, forgotten. 

“Eat the popcorn, not your fingers, dummy.”

“Uh-huh, yeah,” Liv mumbled not hearing a word Bucky said.

Bucky sighed and grabbed the bowl for himself. As he did, he caught a glimpse of the floral tattoo on Liv’s right thigh. He couldn’t help it. He felt a slight shock every time he saw it. Back in the 30's and 40’s tattoos were a hit among army men. Even Bucky himself had thought of getting one. It would have served as a memorial. A sign of patriotism. A reminder of all the sacrifices they had to make for freedom and peace. Tattooed on a man who would later betray his country and contribute in attempts at taking away its freedom. What a memento that would have been.

When Bucky had first seen Liv’s tattoo, he had asked her if it was permanent.

“It is, and I like how you didn’t even try to cover up the judgement in your voice,” Liv had answered not bothering to hide the sarcasm in her tone.

After that Bucky had found himself eyeing the tattoo whenever it was on show, which didn’t happen often. Usually, Liv opted for leggings or thick tights with woollen socks that kept her warm. She found her apartment drafty, Bucky thought it was just fine.

“The serum keeps you warm,” Liv had said.

Bucky lacked the backbone to tell her the problem was her diet of tea and hummus on bread.

This time the tattoo was on full display. Liv’s giant Hard Rock Café hoodie had ridden up to the very top of her thigh, exposing the arrangement of large anemones and smaller flowers Bucky couldn’t identify. It was large, maybe a bit too much so. Bucky could place both of his palms on the tattoo, and they would barely cover it.

The image stretched a little and returned to its original shape as Liv swung her leg back and forth, watching the movie deep in thought. She had now proceeded to ripping her cuticles apart. Bucky flicked his gaze towards the TV, his mind still on the tattoo.

Women rarely tattooed themselves back in the day, and those who did were questionable at best. Ladies of humble beginnings with connections to the underworld. Bucky remembered seeing a tattoo on a woman who lived a few doors down from Steve’s apartment. If Bucky’s memory served him right, she ended up under a sheet after a shootout between rivalling gangs.

“You need to get used to it. Nowadays even doctors have tattoos. We’re getting past the idea that having tattoos makes you unprofessional. It’s just skin and ink,” Liv had said when Bucky had told her about the attitudes towards tattooed women in the 40’s.

His sentiment towards the tattoo had softened when he had learned the purpose of the tattoo. Now he could easily spot the ink-masked marks and ridges on Liv’s skin. She had told Bucky she didn’t do it anymore, and the tattoo was there not only to conceal but to keep her from harming herself any further. 

The image was beautiful, Bucky had to admit that. The flowers reminded him of Steve’s sketches. Liv had chosen not to have any colours in the tattoo, only shades of black and dark grey. Solid lines and strong contrasts gave a powerful nuance to the dainty flowers, which Bucky thought was a good representation of Liv. She had heard horrifying recollections of his past with Hydra, yet she had always listened calmly and offered her reflection when Bucky seemed to need it, like the professional she was.

And like a professional, she shared very little detail from her time before Romania.

Bucky tilted his head a little and studied Liv’s tattoo further. A banner flowed through the flowers like the entire arrangement was a bouquet thrown in the air. On the banner was a quote written in cursive:

_Even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise._

Bucky had seen the same quote stuck on Liv’s fridge door and scribbled on one of her notebooks. He had never asked about it, but it sounded familiar.

“The quote on your tattoo, it’s from Les Misérables, isn’t it?”

It was a shot in the dark. 

Liv stopped nibbling her fingers and hid them in her sleeves. 

“Yeah, it is.”

“Why did you want it tattooed?” Bucky asked shoving some popcorn in his mouth to seem casual.

Liv turned her head towards him, but only halfway. She chewed the inside of her lip, her eyes fixed somewhere to her left while Bucky waited patiently. There was a story involved in the quote, and Liv weighed carefully whether she wanted to share it.

“It brings a feeling of hope, doesn’t it? Like, all this will pass one day,” she said turning her gaze back to the television.

Bucky pursed his lips and shot a disappointed look at his friend who had smoothly omitted any information on her past, once again. Liv didn’t see him roll his eyes as he straightened his back and shoved a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

“I gotta be honest, it doesn’t make me feel anything at all.”

Liv pulled her legs inside her hoodie which made her look even smaller than she already was. She rested her chin on her knees with a little sigh.

“Well, it makes me feel like I can get through this. It gives meaning to everything I do. Even the smallest success is a step forward.”

But not everyone makes it through. Bucky had seen enough to know that there were countless people whose lives didn’t have happy endings. He witnessed people living lives filled with abuse and pain, tortured and killed like dogs. None of his victims expected their lives to be cut short either. Like everyone else, they hoped to die in their sleep after a long happy life. Instead, many of them died scared and begging for their lives. Some were lucky enough not to see it coming, but their loss changed the lives of their loved ones for good. Fathers, mothers, children, lost to further someone else’s agenda. The world Bucky had seen was cruel, and in that world, hope was a luxury reserved to those at the very top of the food chain.

_Besides, didn’t everyone die in Les Misérables?_

“Isn’t that a bit naïve? I mean, wasn’t Les Misérables all about suffering?”

“I could be naïve, or you could be cynical. Some people have resilience, and I think that was one of the themes in Les Mis.” Liv nibbled on the zipper of her hoodie and searched her brain for a while. “I want to believe I’m resilient.”

“What if you’re not?”

The question caused Liv’s face to tighten. Bucky was starting to get under her skin and, in a way, he wanted to. Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew he wasn’t questioning whether Liv would make it or not. He was questioning himself and he needed Liv to talk some sense into him.

“I’d like to think I am.”

“But if it doesn’t get better?”

Liv blinked and took a deep breath. She paused the movie and turned to face Bucky, who crunched on another handful of popcorn in an attempt to maintain a breezy image, which in truth was long gone. He watched Liv scratch her head as she looked for the right words.

“I just have to trust it’s going to happen,” Liv said. “It’s hard, and sometimes I feel hopeless. That’s when I go for a jog or put on Howl’s Moving Castle for the millionth time.”

Then she flashed a sweet smile and poked Bucky’s thigh gently.

“Or I can reach out and knock on your door.”

Bucky smiled back awkwardly.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m the one keeping you sane and not the other way around.”

_Well, saner._

Liv shook her head and gave Bucky one of those looks that made him feel like he said something silly. 

“You have a ton of what-ifs circling in your head. Ask yourself the right ones, challenge the ones claiming you won’t make it.” Liv said. “What if everything changes? What if you start healing and things start going your way? You escaped Hydra. You’re free. Now you’re here with me stuffing your face with popcorn. That’s progress.”

_But does a former Hydra assassin deserve a new chance at life?_

Guilt grabbed at Bucky's gut. He had no right to be sitting there pretending he could go on and have a normal life after everything he had done, everything he had gone through. He couldn’t wipe away his past. It would follow him forever. He should be punished for thinking he could ever be anything else than a killer. His chance was lost somewhere in the decades with Hydra.

Bucky rubbed his nose and gave his eyes a quick wipe which caught Liv’s attention. She straightened her legs and slid a little closer to Bucky. 

“I’d like to hug you,” she informed. “I can see you’re upset, and you look like you really need a hug.”

The feeble _‘okay’_ that escaped his lips surprised even Bucky himself. 

Liv shuffled closer and snaked her arms around Bucky’s shoulders. Careful not to squeeze too hard, she pressed her body against Bucky’s. The last time she tried to hug him, he flinched away. She didn’t warn him. He wasn’t ready. This time he was. He didn’t flinch, he didn’t push her away.

Bucky wrapped his flesh arm around Liv’s torso. He felt gigantic next to her, but he dismissed an urge to complain about her diet. This wasn’t the right moment. Instead, he breathed in the smell of her shampoo and relished the intimacy, the wave of comfort that washed over him when he felt Liv’s warmth on his skin. He could now see what Liv had been talking about the importance of human touch. After the rush of oxytocin and dopamine in his brain, Bucky could feel himself melting in Liv’s arms. The muscles in his back and shoulders relaxed and he could feel his heart rate go down. He wanted to stay there forever, and he was glad to notice Liv didn’t intend to stop anytime soon.

As Liv hugged Bucky tighter, she let out a little sigh and said, “Believe me, one day you will see the Sun rise and it will be beautiful.”


End file.
